Feelings

The Bossed and the Bossing

By Emmanuelle

IF you were deaf, you can still hear clearly; if you were blind, you can still see plainly. Only the hopelessly crazed and the very dead have lost their feeling ways.

The following may be fun pun, but it is not funny, and neither is it puny.

The rebellion starts with: Everything’s sober. Sobra na. It’s too much to bare. Di ko na kaya. There must be most to life than this. I may owe the boss the food displaced on my table, something which I cannot payback time; but he cannot repossess my soul. He cannot decide for or against, above or beyond the diction of my conscience. He sustains me, but I refuse to be overruled. There is no question mark about this, or any of those comatose. Hanggang dito na lamang, maraming salamat na lang. I tuldok my period. My heart is free, not frozen meat. Excuse me, bossing, while I cause you shame. Your slip is showing soon.

The lords and masters of the land – the tai pans of the malls, the president and CEO and directors of the boards of business and corporate worlds, the rank and file of the local and national government, the hierarchy of managers and supervisors, principals and department heads, officials from the division and regional and national offices, the richey rich and the like û these individuals and entities have one thing in common.

They are the bosses. And we are the bossed.

In yesteryears, they once were in our shoes or slippers or unshod feet, common ordinary people that we are. They once stood where we now stand, humbled and in slobbering shambles at the bottom of the pile.

Now, they are one step or more up the ladder. Or snugly at its top.

They are our mini-gods here on earth. They are where we aim to be, preferably at the soonest possible time. That is, if we pray hard enough, and if we work more than we normally would. Unless, of course, by a stroke of a miracle, we have the ways and the means to skip the rest of this crabby low life by inheriting or winning or stealing the company, or the position, or the privilege.

Otherwise, we go the usual ladderized way. It wouldn’t hurt if we earn more diplomas and honoraries as much as our savings in the bank. And if we are knowledgeable about more things than the average worker. And by knowledgeable, I do not only refer to knowing greed containment at the same time as forestry and engineering.

We should also cultivate our connections with the right kinds of people – the in ones. Though the wrong sorts, the out wanting to be in, may be of welcome assistance, now and then, to boost us up the ladder of success and padded expenses.

And hide us when the House calls.

Now and then, to practice our gymnastics and the arts of guile, we should review the techniques of how to bow and kowtow in our most obsequious servile manner to our masters without seeming to do so. We still have our pride, you know, no matter how it keeps disappearing fast.

Take lessons too on the delicate handling and distribution of the fruits of discreet labors. Take a refresher course on the intricacies of conspiracies. Do not forget the extra dash of haberdashery by sewing our lips shut.

And in connection thereof, lilihis po ako sandali bat kaunti to touch on the favorite Pinoy topic of the past days:

But now and then, man (and woman too) is not all flawed id, excess libido and deflated ego. Sometimes, he remembers he is man, not ape and api. He stretches himself up in full height and stands tall on two, not four, feet. He straightens the bend of his bowed spine, he unclasps the prayerful plea of his hands. And to his bossing’s woe, he cuts the stitches that silenced his mouth.

And because he has tongue and teeth and a sometimes mind, he talks. Of truths disguised as untruths. Of untruths disguised as truths.

And we have our new version of a mini-god. And we worship him as he had previously worshipped his fallen mini-gods.

With a big difference. With his mini-gods, he had had years and maybe decades of mutually-profitable liaison. With him as our new mini-god, we had none of that. Our profits he and they had already mutually gobbled-up. For years and maybe decades. Gobbledy gobbledy goob.

Why was he so afraid of the House calls. Were the House calls more potent, more frightening than when Heaven calls?

If the House had not called, would we have had none of him too?. (More next week.)

(Readers may reach columnist at jingmil@yahoo.com. For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/feelings/
For reactions to this column, click “Send MESSAGES, OPINIONS, COMMENTS” on default page.)

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